For those of us who embrace the arts as an important factor in our lives, it's no secret that every dollar spent on the arts rolls over several times in the local economy where it is first lands.

Nor is it a shock to learn that, as an industry, the arts provides jobs for an army of America's talent.

And, lest we forget, having a creative outlet helps to keep a person from developing a toxic personality.

As Neil DeGrasse Tyson points out, "Cutting PBS support (0.012% of budget) to help balance the federal budget is like deleting text files to make room on your 500 Gigabyte hard drive." For further reading on the subject, I recommend

All of the stories you enjoy (whether on film, onstage, or in print) were created by writers whose imaginations had been nurtured and stimulated by an exposure to the arts.

Every article, blog, and press release you read was written by someone who took the time and effort to acquire language arts skills.

If real facts don't mesh with your choice of "alternative facts," suppose we examine how the arts appeal to people's emotions.

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Whether you watched Mary Martin's performance as Peter Pan on television or attended a live performance of Peter Pan as a child of any age, I'm pretty sure that you clapped your hands when Peter exhorted the audience to send a signal to the dying Tinker Bell to show that you believed in fairies. Whether you cherish that memory as a moment of wistful innocence or think of it as one of the most emotionally manipulative acts you've ever witnessed in a theatre, there is no denying its power over an audience.

“In The Man Who Was Peter Pan the playwright Allan Knee has performed an extraordinary act of imagination: he has removed Freud from the world, and it is an astonishingly different place for that. Joe Barrett as Barrie says little enough about that emotion, but he lets the audience feel its poignancy in a way that endows Barrie's complicated attachment to these boys with a kind of innocent wisdom. The concentration here is solely and intensely on the strange relationship between the man and the family he carefully contrived to acquire, and it is a tribute to Mr. Knee, the director and the cast that at the end one is enfolded in it, understands it and knows it is very strange indeed. Here Peter Davies, whose name Barrie took for Peter Pan, is the key.”

The original Barrie play debuted on December 27, 1904 in London. Two interesting pieces of trivia which occurred after the play's premiere:

While the character of impresario Charles Frohman is an important driving force in the show, there is no mention that Frohman died in the tragic sinking of the R.M.S. Lusitania on May 7, 1915 (which brought the United States into World War I).

A key subplot in Finding Neverland shows how J.M. Barrie coaxed Peter Llewelyn Davies out of his depression over his father's death by encouraging the young boy to write. As much as some people think of Peter Pan as the story of children learning to use their imagination so they can fly and live out their fantasies (as a child, I once jumped off my parents' bed to see if I could fly and landed on the floor with a thud), it also shows the importance of mentoring a young mind with potential talent for storytelling.

Directed by Diane Paulus, the national tour of Finding Neverland recently touched down at the Orpheum Theatre in San Francisco (a London production is due to open later this year). As Paulus (who directed the show in Cambridge and on Broadway) is quick to note:

“I was always interested in the story behind the story of Peter Pan. That’s what hooked me about Neverland. It feels like Peter Pan has always been in our lives (as a beloved character, as a symbol of wonder and innocence – it’s even the peanut butter on our table) but it took the creative imagination of an artist to actually bring him into our lives. What Barrie did – his imagination that put clocks in crocodiles and that had characters fly – was radical at the time. That really touched me, as an artist, to know that you can take such risks.”

While Finding Neverland is obviously not the same thing as the musical version of Peter Pan with which most audiences are familiar, it is an extremely entertaining show filled with rich visuals, memorable characters, and a backward-forensic appeal which allows audiences to recognize words and ideas that helped Barrie write his "fairy play" entitled Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up.

I was especially impressed by the performances of Thomas Miller as Charles Frohman's assistant, Elliot, and Ben Krieger as the young Peter Llewelyn Davies. Dee Tomasetta appeared as the Peter Pan in Barrie's play, showering glitter all over the carefully lit proceedings. Here's the trailer:

Performances of Finding Neverland continue through February 12 at the Orpheum Theatre (click here for tickets).

“The film tells the story in both a linear and circular manner and uses time to relate the absence of time, like music can enhance silence. This film also speaks of the reality of death. Man has a tendency to oppose death, to fear and fight against it (which is both healthy and natural). Yet we can simultaneously have a beautiful and intuitive understanding that we are pure life and that we don’t need to oppose death. I hope the film conveys that feeling. Without dialogue, the sounds of the characters breathing become naturally more expressive.”

The film begins with a man struggling to stay afloat in a raging storm at sea. After his body washes up on a desert island, it takes a while for him to regain his strength. He makes several attempts to build a raft which can take him away from the island, but each time he sets off on a raft it is destroyed by a giant red sea turtle and he is forced to return to the island.

One day, the man sees the turtle wash up on shore. After investigating the creature, he manages to overturn it, leaving the turtle lying upside down, helpless. Several days later, the man revisits the turtle and decides to pour some water over it and try to help the turtle drink. His act of kindness transforms the turtle into a beautiful young woman. While there is no explicit man-on-turtle sex in the story, the young woman gives birth to a boy and, as time passes, the boy grows into a man.

When their child is fully grown, he decides to venture off on his own. Eventually, his father grows weaker and dies. The son returns home to help his mother mourn and, with her companion gone, the woman resumes her turtle form and goes back to the sea.

End of story. Or is it?

Because this is an animated feature, its colors and artwork must fill in a lot of details as Dudok De Wit's story weaves its spell. “During the production I didn’t do any animation or scenery, only small touch-ups," he explains. "For the backgrounds, the drawings were made with charcoal on paper very freely, with broad strokes smudged with the palm of the hand. This artisanal quality was very important and gave the image a lovely, grainy texture. Only the raft and turtles were digitally animated (it would have been hell to animate them in 2D). As everything is finalized in the same graphic style, you can’t tell it’s digital.”

“Because animation sometimes allows you to reach a very high level of fantasy, poetry, beauty and freedom with the mise-en-scène, the music can be written in a totally free and inspired manner. It’s always tricky to work with a director who is both a musician and a cultured music lover, but it’s also extremely motivating and stretching. Michael told me he wanted a cello, a ternary rhythm and analogue textures. He already had a very precise idea and I understood straight away that he had a good knowledge of music.”

“I suggested natural percussions (bamboo), native flutes, and the quest for a melodic and harmonic simplicity, which I felt was consistent with the visual aesthetic of the film and would also serve to reach an emotional essence. I used a lot of wood and bamboo for the percussion. For example, all the ‘shaker’ sections were made using bamboo leaves I had hand picked and then recorded in my studio. I also used a wooden udu (a pot-shaped idiophone from Nigeria) to obtain an aquatic and wood-like tonality in the large percussions. I observed three imperatives for writing the score:

Respect silence, and the sounds of nature.

The music, sounds and natural ambiance should blend seamlessly with one another.

Create a rhythm in the narrative with music.”

The Red Turtle stands apart from many full-length animated features in that there is no dialogue, little in the way of character development, and (other than a tsunami) no easily identifiable villain. And yet, there is no denying that it is a magnificent example of animation as an art form. This film can shock and awe audiences with its beauty and inspire new generations of animators. Here's the trailer: